


What are Loyal Apprentices For?

by Darth_Videtur



Series: Master and Apprentice [15]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Jealous Maul, M/M, Manipulative Palpatine, Master and Apprentice, Master and Apprentice AU compatible, Maul has unusual packaging, Mentions of Plagueis/Palpatine, Palpatine finds out firsthand just how unusual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Phantom Menace, Senator Palpatine - Freeform, Sith slash, Tentacles, Topping from the Bottom, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7422262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Videtur/pseuds/Darth_Videtur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senator Palpatine returns to his apartments after a hard day's work and encounters an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome, visitor. Pre-Phantom Menace time. Set in the same universe as Master and Apprentice series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What are Loyal Apprentices For?

“Maul,” he said.

 

Surprise rarely caught him anymore, and so the feeling alien and disconcerting left him pausing on the threshold of the darkened room. His face showed nothing at all. He opened himself slowly to the currents of the Force, having cut it away during his meeting with the Senators and meddlesome Jedi.

 

Maul stood up, the chair jerking back at the force of his rising. The golden red eyes glowing, he padded silently across the room and genuflected at his master’s boots.

 

“Master,” he uttered, the sound something of a cross between a purr and a growl.

 

Others might have demanded the reason for his presence in the Senator’s apartments, but Palpatine only raised an eyebrow and said, “I take it the mission was successful.”

 

Maul looked up, fierce face almost grinning. “The worm died as he lived, Master. A coward.” So feral, Palpatine mused, so uncharming, but delightfully efficient. He knew Maul had entered as a silent shadow, his presence in the Force cloaked as Sidious had begun to instruct him.

 

He marveled sometimes at the great difference between himself and his apprentice. Maul was a blunt hammer, an undeniable powerhouse in the Dark Side. When objects appeared in his path, he struck them down with his rage and thought of little else but absolute destruction.

 

His passion amused Palpatine, who preferred the colder arts of rotting the Light from the inside out, of playing with his victims until they greeted his blade in their hearts with grateful confusion.

 

He looked at Maul for a long moment. The only problem with weapons was the tendency to get… messy.

 

“Were you seen?” he asked, voice whisper-soft and sibilant.

 

“The only eyes that saw me are closed forever, Master,” Maul promised eagerly, still kneeling, blinking up at him in patient attendance.

 

That too, was occasionally puzzling. Except for the tense moment on Hypori many years ago, Maul never displayed hatred toward his master, only single-minded devotion. Someday, Maul would be expected to rise up and slay his master, in the way of all Sith.

 

As if, Palpatine scoffed.

 

Maul acted less like a Sith Lord and more like a Sith Hound, sniffing after his master like a meek house pet. His mind was not capable of deceit, at least not yet. It lay as an open book for the perusal of his master, which Palpatine seldom did, rifling brutally through it. Maul served him faithfully, and the Force whispered no warning.

 

But still, sometimes dogs tried to rip out the throats of their masters, and when Maul was not where he was expected to be, Sidious took notice.

 

Such as now. “You were instructed to wait in the LiMerge facilities.”

 

Maul lowered his head further. “There were Jedi nearby, Master. I thought it wise to evade them.”

 

A hint of reservation in his smooth voice gave Palpatine pause. “Jedi?”

 

“Yes, Master, including the older one. Dooku. The one you know.”

 

Sidious did not immediately reply. Well now, how interesting… The jealousy rang true this time, curling Maul’s soft tones into hardened steel. Palpatine smiled. What an unusual feeling, to be surprised twice in one day.

 

Unusual, and intriguing. Just how far did this unproductive jealousy extend?  And really, what did Maul expect? As senator, Palpatine simply could not ignore the Jedi who sought to entangle themselves in the thorns of politics, as Dooku often did. He smirked at the thought of the older man, so arrogant and sure of himself, and so entirely clueless to the truth smiling in his face.

 

Maul took his silence uneasily, the darkness gathering in the Force around him. “Master?”

 

“You phrased that in a most interesting manner, my apprentice,” he finally replied, stressing the Zabrak’s title. “You question my contacts?”

 

Maul appeared almost horrified, but he quickly dropped his head to conceal his dismay. “Never, Master.”

 

“Hm.” Palpatine restrained a smile and moved further into the room with easy grace, the calm laziness of the apex predator with nothing to fear. Maul slowly rose from the floor at his negligent wave and followed him across the room in the direction of the wine bar. He could feel his Sith apprentice in the Force of their bond: confused, and worried. Worried for his master and himself.

 

“Perhaps you do not question,” he said, reaching for the tall decanter of blossom wine on the small counter. “But you do fear.”

 

Maul stiffened. “Fear is my weapon, Master. I am fear. You’ve said it yourself.”

 

Sidious watched the stream of red liquid tumble like freshly released blood into the wine glass as he poured, aware that Maul stood nearly at his shoulder. “Not often are you the victim, Lord Maul. Speak honestly. What troubles you?”

 

Maul was silent.

 

Sidious swept the glass into his hand and turned to regard the muted Zabrak. Maul stared at the floor. Palpatine approached and reached out and caught the sharp black and red chin between the fingers of his free hand, as he had dozens of times in the past when Maul was but a child. Maul finally looked at him, eyes burning with smoky emotion.

 

When a child, Maul was smaller. Now, Maul stood over his master, heavier and far more physically imposing, but height and weight made no difference. They both knew where the true power lay.

 

“Answer me,” Sidious purred.

 

Maul shivered and swallowed. “The Jedi troubles me, Master. He courts the darkness, and I fear for yo-” he stopped and tore his gaze away.

 

“Do you?” Sidious asked. He pondered the younger Sith. “Why do you fear for me, Lord Maul?”

 

“I’ve sensed him, Master,” Maul refused to look back at him. “He is interested in you, in learning more about you. Too much. If he finds out who you truly-”

 

Sidious did not raise his voice, but Maul fell silent all the same when he spoke. “Have you sensed my shields weakening?”

 

Maul hesitated. “No, Master…”

 

Sidious let go of the sharp chin, feeling Maul’s loss and disappointment in the Force. Ignoring the rush of emotion, he turned the few small steps back to the low bar and took a long drink of the red wine. “Then what has changed, my apprentice? What has you so… concerned… for my safety?”

 

Maul appeared to grow braver out from under his master’s direct scrutiny. “You have changed toward him, Master. You speak with him often, you spend time with him. You give and take counsel with him.”

 

Sidious soaked in the bright fire of Maul’s simmering jealousy. The words still lay unsaid, _You spend more time with him than me now,_ but he could easily reach into the Zabrak’s weaker mind and lay bare the startling admission of need, of want.

 

But he waited instead and decided to tease the flame higher. He turned around to regard his apprentice. “Dooku has many skills. Not only is he a skilled warrior,” Sidious glanced meaningfully over Maul’s muscular frame. “But his political talents are considerable.”

 

The jab hit home with a physical flinch of tattooed skin. He knew Maul chafed under the realization that he had no secret, useful identity of his own. That he was, in effect, a glorified assassin. Sidious allowed a chuckle to bubble up in his throat and watched the anger flash across the sharp features, flaring in the wide nostrils.

 

“You disagree?”

 

“Politics isn’t everything, Master,” Maul said, low and tense.

 

“True. But politics is often the straightest path to power, and power…” Sidious stepped closer, nearly gliding to his apprentice, who jerked straight and proud as he approached. “…power is everything.”

 

Maul breathed heavily.

 

Now to drop the moral of this lesson. “My apprentice, the future Sith Lord and Master, should understand this,” Sidious purred. “If he does not, is he truly worthy of the title?”

 

Maul moved at last, closing the last bit of distance between them and dropping to his knees. “I am your apprentice, Master. I understand.” The whine in his throat was shamefully needy.

 

“Do you? Or are you saying this simply to please me?” Sidious stared down at the crown of the horned head. He knew how sensitive Maul was there, how he could have him whimpering with one cruel twist, biting his red and black lips to avoid begging for mercy. His hand twitched on the wine glass.

 

“I live only to please you, Master. Tell me what I can do to remove this… this imposter from your thoughts. Tell me.” The younger Sith stretched out his hands but did not dare to touch his Master, not yet. He hovered them over the dark robes, and his thoughts grew bolder and less guarded. Sidious blinked in surprise for the third time that night; so this was what Maul sought… His obsession over his Master crossed into the obscene.

 

Sidious laughed harshly, knowing that as he did so Maul’s hopes were ground into the carpet at his feet. He felt the horror and shame and anger swirling tightly before him, wrapping tendrils of horrified lust around the lean young body.

 

“Is that truly what you want?” he asked, scorn seeping into his question.

 

Maul breathed heavily. “All I want is a chance to prove myself to you, Master.” He licked his lips. “All I want is you, Master. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 

He almost believed him. Maul had shown nothing but blind devotion nearly his whole life. He wondered just how bold his Zabrak might be, so he smiled coldly down. Amused. Curious. “Show me what you want, Lord Maul.”

 

Granted permission, the young warrior rose to his feet and towered over his master. For a moment, Sidious hesitated, reminded too much of a taller being yet who took what he wanted and mocked him mercilessly. But this was not him. This was silent, taciturn Maul, who adored him.

 

Maul’s sharp hands were pulling at the ties of his robes, pulling at the outer layers. Sidious remained passive, curious how far his apprentice would go. He waved his open hand languidly at the door, locking it securely, and took another sip of his wine, and then Maul was pulling the glass out of his hand and tugging his robes down and away, leaving him in his tunic and trousers. Maul growled softly, his hardness growing painfully evident in the front of his own dark pants, but he set the wine glass aside and gripped his master’s tunic in both hands, pulling it up and off in one swift, rough motion.

 

Sidious shivered when sharp talons descended over his narrow chest, scraping over his pale nipples, not hard enough to draw blood. Without warning, the wine glass was at his lips as Maul held it there, the fiery yellow eyes fixed to the trembling wine. He opened his mouth, and the thick liquid rolled over his tongue, a little too quickly, because it overflowed and dripped from the corners of his mouth.

 

Maul pulled the glass away and leaned in, hunching like a lusty starved animal, licking at the sweet trails. His hot tongue laved the Sith master’s throat and dropped lower to the hollow of his clavicle. Sidious let out his breath in a low sigh and allowed his head to tilt back, though every muscle tensed with preparation. Just in case.  

 

He gasped sharply when, without warning, Maul pinched his right nipple and dropped his head to take it into his mouth, pressing his tongue on him, horns rubbing gently, dangerously against his master’s chest. Sidious bit his lip and shook the sensations away. “This is what you want…” he sighed, lifting his hands to twine his fingers between and over the sharp horns, admiring the contrast of his pale skin against the vibrant red and black.

 

He allowed one of the horns to catch the smooth, long-untried skin of his palm and tear, watched the small drop of blood well along the cut. Exquisite… much like the finely honed weapon pressing against him. He clenched his fist and glanced down. “Do you fear he will take me from you?”

 

Maul straightened and gripped him tightly, taloned hands hooking into Sidious’s belt and tugging their hips together, letting his master register his desire against his stomach. “You are my Master, not his. Never his.”

 

Sidious hid a satisfied smirk and the uncertain quiver low in his belly at the feel of Maul’s growing erection. “Then serve me well, and you will continue as my right hand. Fail me, Lord Maul…” he left the consequence unstated, and Maul shoved along him, desperate and needy. 

 

Maul tried to kiss him, but he turned the feral face away with a soft, “No,” and Maul quickly acquiesced, returning his worship to the Sith master’s body, but the Zabrak hissed as Sidious ran his long fingers over the bases of his horns, driven to distraction. Maul pushed against his slender hands. “Master…”

 

Sidious played with the sensitive horns, rubbing at the tender skin and listening to his apprentice gasp and whimper. The sound humored him, that Maul could be so helpless in his grasp. Such a deadly animal, mewling like a gurr-cat kit under his fingertips.

 

He broadcasted his thoughts, his amusement, and Maul snarled softly. He hated to be thought of as weak. Oh, how he hated it! Possessive fingers sank into the trousers around the Sith Master’s waist and tore at them, every movement frantic as the sturdy cloth failed to yield to Maul’s assault. Sidious flinched when the Zabrak lifted him bodily and carried him a few meters to the small table near the couch, laying him down on his back over the cool surface and continuing the disrobing, rough impatience in every twitch of the powerful muscles.

 

Sidious marveled as Maul wrenched his belt loose and let it slither to the floor like a serpent. Simultaneous worship and domination. Manipulation and desire, aggression, impulse. Lust looping over their bodies and caressing his emotional apprentice into a mating frenzy. His trousers and undergarments slid away. Maul pulled them free of his boots and dropped them uncaring to the floor.

 

For a moment, Maul paused and stood and looked at him, eyes blown wide and breathing heavily as though he was surprised that Sidious was permitting this sacrilege. He looked at every part of him, eyes at last fixing hungrily on the place between his master’s pale, firm thighs. Sidious shoved the discomfort of such wanton perusal to the back of his mind and taunted the gasping Zabrak. “You think you deserve this, Lord Maul?”

 

His apprentice swallowed roughly and tugged at his own clothing, revealing tattooed skin, gleaming with sweat and desire. He was magnificently built, all muscle and power and perfect physical control, even if he could not control his base lusts. Sidious watched the trousers slide off narrow hips to reveal a thick and inhuman cock, engorged and erect, eagerly desiring his body. He watched it grow in the cool air as Maul paused over him and dropped a hand to his thick girth, stroking it once, twice, golden eyes fixed on his smirking master as he worked himself harder.

 

Sidious felt his own faint desire shrinking further at the sight of it. He never enjoyed the initial penetration, not really, and Maul looked like he would hurt. Perhaps once he was inside… Maul continued to work at his length, rubbing the new fluids over the dark skin, preparing himself for the entry into his master’s tensing body.

 

Palpatine startled when Maul leaned over him and stroked his thighs and hips, when Maul’s hand settled over his cock and squeezed gently. “Master,” Maul whined as he cradled him and ran his thumb over the sensitive tip. Sidious bucked a little under him. “Please, Master.”

 

“Begging, Lord Maul?” he sneered breathlessly. “You are a Sith Lord. Act it.”

 

Maul’s hands dropped to his thighs and pulled insistently, but Sidious made him work for it, reveling in his apprentice’s frustration and desire. Finally Maul gained the upper hand, though they both knew full well who had permitted it, spreading his master open on the table and pulling him down until the Zabrak’s muscular body was between his legs, holding him apart for inspection.

 

Maul trailed a cold talon around the base of his hardening cock to the soft perineum and lower still, sinking his tip into the tight entrance.

 

He lingered for a moment, awe on his dark face, and he pushed deeper. “Master?”

 

Sidious hissed and drove his own smooth, aristocratic nails into the broad shoulders.

 

Maul’s eyes flickered. He growled and withdrew his finger, animalistic and predatory, and pressed forward with the head of his wide girth. Sidious grunted as his apprentice began filling him, willing every nerve in his body not to lash out in hatred.

 

Not Plagueis. This was not Plagueis.

 

He arched his back and felt Maul’s taloned hands slide under his waist to hold him in place. Maul paused, too wide and too eager, and the sensations of the Zabrak’s hot thick cock rubbing his walls with every twitch of motion threatened to overwhelm the Sith Lord.

 

But he forced the distraction to the back of his mind and focused on driving Maul to a fever pitch with a low moan of calculated, promising pleasure. His apprentice stiffened and trembled and pushed again, entering him shallowly. Maul’s talons loosened and became almost tender as they trailed over the cool skin under his grasp, and Sidious reached out and slapped him. There was no room for sentiment here, only dark shadow and painful desire.

 

Maul snarled. Maul roared. Maul thrust forward sharply, lifting his smaller master almost completely off the table with his passion. His hands raked harshly over the delicate human skin, drawing blood on the white hips and thighs. Then he was grabbing Sidious’s legs and pulling them up and farther apart, giving him deeper access, complete access.

 

His hips rippled forward like a wild animal in heat.

 

Sidious gasped as Maul’s cock threatened to split him. The Zabrak was nearly as thick as Plagueis and much, much hotter. The heat scalded him and for a moment, he forgot to fight. The struggle seeped out of his body, and he lay limply under his apprentice, pinned to the table by Maul’s weight and the shaft buried in his core. Maul growled over him, heavily muscled chest heaving with his anger and desire for his master. Completely, helplessly in his power. He had never realized how much he craved that utter devotion in those golden eyes.

 

It brought him more pleasure than any physical act ever could. He deserved to be worshipped.

 

“My master,” Maul said, low and hot. “Never his. Mine.” He leaned in and nipped Sidious on the shoulder, and the Sith master gripped his tender horns and squeezed. Maul yelped and thrust forward, their hips slamming together, and Sidious nearly cried out when he felt something shifting in the Zabrak’s cock.

 

He remembered Maul was not human. The tip of the thick shaft was unfolding into half a dozen smaller tendrils, teased from their hibernation by the tight heat. They sought for purchase on his inner walls and stroked him relentlessly. “Ahh…” Sidious moaned as they pulled themselves deeper into his body, touching and teasing at every centimeter of his channel. One tentacle found a spongy soft place and pressed against it, and his back arched off the table, his booted heels digging into Maul’s strong back.

 

Muscles quivering with his efforts to stay in control, Maul grinned savagely down at him. “You like that, my Master?”

 

Sidious bit his lip to keep from groaning, but the tentacle kept rubbing him _there_ and he could barely get his words out, knowing that his own shaft was growing harder with each shift inside him. His cock nearly curled against his heaving belly, straining for release. “You think… to please me, Lord Maul?”

 

Maul’s grin evaporated. “I will please you, Master. I will please you until you come.”

 

The tentacles expanded and he hissed. Too much, this was too much… Maul’s hand descended on his aching cock and squeezed and pumped him until he felt his tip leaking, helpless to stop the progression as his balls tightened and pulled up, and stars flashed in his vision. Maul’s desire for him ran hot through every constricting vein.

 

Maul suddenly withdrew, pulling free of him and leaving only cold emptiness behind. Sidious snarled. He would not dare!

 

Maul drove back in, hard and merciless, and Sidious cried out as his body found release, coming wildly under Maul’s iron grip. Maul kept pounding into him, desperate for his own satisfaction, and finally the cock in his channel shuddered and twisted as Maul came with a feral roar. How it burned! Like fire and shadow, filling him until he overflowed.

 

Their groans slowly faded into gasps for precious air, and Sidious shoved his apprentice away, loathing the feel of the Zabrak softening inside him, as the tendrils retreated and bound together once more. Maul went, instantly contrite and twisted with apprehension in the Force. Sidious could feel his fear and still-hot desire in the aftermath of the madness as he knelt at the side of his master.

 

For a moment, Sidious lay draped languidly on his back over the low table, sated and boneless, clothed in slick strings of his pearl-white pleasure and leaking Maul’s seed. He knew what he must look like to the frightened Maul, his lean pale body completely debauched and licentious. But contrary to his apprentice’s assumption, Sidious was a little pleased. He had finally pushed Maul to display autonomy, to take what he wanted. Perhaps not all hope was lost for this… affectionate apprentice of his. It was certainly a start, in any case.

 

He sat up slowly, irritated by the mess Maul had left on him, in him, the claw marks stinging and scoured across his pale thighs. It made him think of Plagueis, and suddenly he wished Maul gone.

 

“Leave me,” he snapped. Maul touched his horned head to the low table and swept to his feet, leaving without a word just as his master commanded. After a long pause to gather his thoughts and breath, Palpatine dragged himself to his feet and moved further into his apartment to the refresher. It would do no good to linger like this in this place. Perhaps this had not been one of his best ideas.

 

He could not afford to let it happen again.

 

He would not let Maul touch him again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Early on, many fanfics gave Maul tentacles down below, so I thought I would honor that old throwback. 
> 
> What'd you guys think?


End file.
